


All I Have

by Rosage



Category: Mouretsu Pirates | Bodacious Space Pirates
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school students, space pirates, and children of legends, Marika and Chiaki already have countless roles to play.  “Girlfriends” may or may not be pushing it—especially when more than one hidden feeling comes to light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Duel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Star of Heaven (rubylily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubylily/gifts).



> This is my Femslash Exchange gift for Rubylily, whose request had several ideas to choose from--I won't spoil the story by saying which direction I decided to go in, but I had a lot of fun and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks to CherryMilkshake for the beta.

Marika flipped images of the Angel Serendipity’s interior onto her screen while she ran through the plan one last time. In the back of her mind she registered the golden walls, the chandeliers, and the marble floor, which reminded her of the chessboard she’d found in the Lamp House storage. She’d roped Chiaki into playing with her on one of her parfait visits, as they seemed to be the only time she saw Chiaki these days. Competing against Chiaki had made the game’s strategy more fun, and the weight of the clacking pieces was different from her computer version. The candlesticks set on the cruise liner’s ballroom tables looked similarly antiquated, made to hold real fire; Marika considered using them in the routine before remembering the choreography had long been set. She closed the images. All that was left now was to begin the job.

After double-checking that everyone else was set, Marika retreated to the captain’s chamber for a final makeup check. Enough eyes would be on her face this time that Misa had chosen deep reds to heighten the drama, emphasizing her lips and eyelids more than she was used to. She thought about her mother wearing similar makeup, then about what her schoolmates would say if she showed up to class this way. She laughed, quickly sobering as she spotted the open physics textbook on her desk. She’d tried to study while Misa did her makeup, though all she got out of it was a poke in the eye.

She closed the book. With this paycheck, the Bentenmaru could afford to postpone pirating until their next deadline, leaving her plenty of time to study; Gruier had gone all out on the event, buying one of the most expensive optional packages. Marika grinned. This job excited her more than probably any other the Bentenmaru could have been given. Making sure her rapier was secure, she hurried back to the bridge.

She checked the radar. On schedule, they were closing in on the Angel Serendipity with the Balbarossa only a little further away. Knowing the pace was part of the plan, Marika had to resist racing it there.

As they pulled in, the Bentenmaru accessed a live feed of the inside of the Angel Serendipity, which unlike the photos Marika had studied displayed a dancing crowd. Their gold gleamed under the chandelier, and they wore gems to match the flowers that each of them had pinned to their lapel, wrist, or hairpiece. Marika whistled. Even without the extra package, this would be a good haul.

The Bentenmaru passed over the luxury liner’s glass ceiling, firing off a few beams that flew harmlessly and disappeared with a twinkle. The passengers wouldn’t be able to see if the attacks hit the Balbarossa; they must be pointing and exclaiming already. After a bold announcement to the Angel Serendipity that the electronic warfare against it had succeeded, Marika ran to board the target.

Once in place Marika fidgeted, tugging at the stiff collar of her pirate’s uniform while she waited for the signal. Even the doors looked antique, appearing to be wood painted cream with gold accents, though like any other door, the push of a button caused them to slide up. A whiff of lavender tickled Marika’s nose as smoke filled the corridor and spilled out. Holding back a sneeze, she launched through.

“Ahoy, citizens of Serenity,” she called, waving a hand to make up for the lack of a gun. “Your historic ship now belongs to the Captain Kato Marika of the Bentenmaru, here to herald a new wave of piracy. Hand over all of your gold, and we’ll let you escape with your lives.” She brought her palm up and clenched her fingers while the crew behind her fired a few shots overhead. The chandelier swung. Those under it darted to the side.

To avoid spoiling the skit by looking across with anticipation, Marika scanned the crowd, staring each guest in the eye with her chin raised. Most beamed, though she noticed a few gems being stashed into gloves. Apparently they didn’t trust the cruise’s insurance.

Leaping down onto the floor, she began as usual, pacing through the middle of the room calling orders while her crew stashed the stolen valuables into small treasure chests. Even in the midst of reform, Serenity’s tastes were as traditional as expected, so Marika had watched a few salvaged recordings from the time when pirates roamed seas, not space. Her crewmembers sported eye patches and false gold teeth. One carried on his shoulder an electronic bird that recorded and played back people’s explanations.

“Thank you for your cooperation thus far,” Marika said once the crowd had settled into the routine, many having given up their valuables though several wrists and ears still sparkled. “If it continues, we should be on our way within—”

On cue the lights went out, filling the room with gasps. A red alarm light flashed, illuminating pendants that decorated swiveling necks.

“Attention!” a voice shouted over the speakers. “The Balbarossa is currently engaged in electronic warfare with the Bentenmaru over control of the Angel Serendipity. Soon this ship will be claimed in the name of Captain Kurihara.”

A spotlight shone on Marika as she shook her fist at the ceiling, the eyebrows she’d lined narrowing. “What cravens think to steal a haul from a fellow pirate? We took over this ship dirty and square.”

“You should know better than to expect fellowship among pirates.” A second spotlight fell on the balcony, where Chiaki stood in a purple and silver captain’s coat, her arms crossed under the white rose attached to her lapel. “Were you truly planning on leaving after such a half-baked job? How the mighty Bentenmaru has fallen!”

“I don’t want to hear that from a ship cowardly enough not to show its captain!”

Chiaki’s boot rose to rest on the rail. “My name is Chiaki Kurihara, and I represent the Balbarossa in my father’s stead. I won’t tolerate insolence from the captain of such a motley crew.”

“If you think to insult my crew, then you’ll have to come down here and face those words, you son of a biscuit eater,” Marika shouted, bending to grip the hilt of her sword. It felt slick in her palm, even though she knew the next move had been carefully prepared.

The crowd did not, yelling as Chiaki leapt from the balcony. She grabbed hold of a knotted curtain and swung down in a graceful arc before landing in front of Marika. Marika had to stop herself from reacting to Chiaki’s appearance, which she hadn’t previewed. Skull earrings swung from Chiaki’s ears as she rose. Her eye shadow matched her coat, and her lashes and brows had been done to accentuate the severity of her gaze. Contact lenses replaced her glasses.

Heels clattered against the tile—those guests next to the pair realizing they were dangerously close, those in the far corner realizing they had the poorest spots. A computerized voice over the speaker announced, _Balbarossa’s takeover of the Angel Serenity’s systems, 50% complete._

“Shall we put the electronic warfare on hold?” Marika suggested, looking up to the ceiling with her free hand over her brow. “I’d hate for our bout to be interrupted by machines.”

Chiaki bowed, then unsheathed her sword with a flourish. “Aye, we’ll have to settle this the old-fashioned way. Captain Kato Marika, I challenge you to a duel!”

Marika mirrored the actions, containing a grin. She never minded Chiaki’s quiet quips, but this was the Chiaki she dreamed about. “I accept,” Marika said. “At your ready!”

They prolonged the standoff so that the straggling audience members could join the circle around them. One behind Chiaki wrung a handkerchief. That was all the attention Marika could spare before Chiaki lunged and Marika rushed to parry.

Marika caught Chiaki’s sword against hers, forcing Chiaki back. Chiaki retaliated with a jab from the side, which Marika dodged in a twirl that took her dangerously close to a swooning audience member. She made a show of being cornered, clutching her hilt close to her chest. Fabric ruffled as the half-circle of crowd on either side parted in waves.

“I have you now!” Chiaki said, charging forward. Marika lowered her weapon, waiting until the last moment to drop and roll away. The point of Chiaki’s blade pierced a planted guest’s corsage, pressing a secret button that caused the corsage to erupt in a bloom of petals fluttering to the ground. The actor stood stiff as a board with the tip at their chest before falling back into another’s arms.

Marika looked on approvingly as the audience exclaimed in a round, murmuring with excitement even as they edged further away. A few even tossed their corsages at the fallen guest.

As soon as the exclamations started to die, Marika struck. Chiaki whirled around just in time to block, but this time she was pushed back and down, straining against Marika’s weight. Her heels slipped against the petals on the ground. With a shout she adjusted her weight on her ankles and lunged upward, meeting Marika face-to-face.

They paused with their swords locked to heighten the tension, close enough for Marika to smell a perfume of roses trying to mask sweat. Chiaki glared at her from behind the crossed blades, her gums bared from an exaggerated snarl. As planned Marika smirked, though with Chiaki’s face inches from hers, she had the urge to break into a silly grin. She regained character as they both leapt away.

“It seems you’re a worthy opponent after all, Captain Kato,” Chiaki said, panting slightly. “But I hear your style is to be quick and decisive; why are you dragging this out?”

“It makes for fun sport, doesn’t it?” Marika asked, setting her sword casually over her shoulder.

“Do not mock me so!” Chiaki clenched her hands in front of her, almost dangerous given her prop. “I’ve given you all the passion I have to offer; why do you not return the favor, when I know you have more to give?”

Faltering, Marika blinked. That wasn’t how the script went, was it? Chiaki was supposed to say, _We’ll see how fun it is when I best you and claim both this ship and yours as my own,_ then rush in for a final attack.

Murmurs threaded their way through the crowd, making Marika realize she’d dropped her confident expression. She shook her head. If it was improvisation, she could keep up as well as Chiaki.

She held the rapier back out, staring down its point at Chiaki, whose makeup had begun to melt. “Nay!” Marika cried. She couldn’t remember whether that was a fairytale thing or a pirate thing, but she’d heard the exclamation in _some_ old video. “You can’t tell me this is all you have. Even now, you’re holding back.”

Chiaki’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “How dare you presume to know that?”

“You, uh, presumed the same,” Marika said, hoping her straight back made up for her stumbling lines. “But if it’s passion you want, I’ll put all I have into this last strike.”

Chiaki struggled for a moment, her fingers shaking, but she seemed to realize Marika was trying to steer them back on the intended course. She straightened, mimicking Marika’s battle stance. “Then I will do the same.”

The crowd had come to a hush, clearly convinced by the climactic build. Marika held onto the moment for a count of three before rushing forward, yelling a split second early to signal to Chiaki to do the same. They swung in wide, opposite arcs, meeting in the middle until Marika hooked her sword under Chiaki’s and sent it flying into the air.

Chiaki fell to her knees. An ornament overhead burst, raining petals down upon them. The silence hung until Marika lifted her sword with a declaration of victory, earning an uproar of applause.

The lights returned to normal. Chiaki stood, disappearing quickly into the crowd. Usually to keep up the illusion the pirates exited in-character, but Gruier had insisted that Marika stay to greet Serenity’s people, so she addressed them with gratitude before they disbanded, leaving a circle of petals behind.

xxxxxxx

With the crux of her job finished, Marika had a chance to take in the ball. Though the ship looked nothing like the Golden Ghost Ship it was advertised to be modeled after, the guests didn’t seem to realize or care. She recognized the styles from the award ceremony on Serenity; dresses had puffy shoulders with wide sleeves and skirts that ballooned out under tight bodices, and the cravats and coats with swooping tails reminded her of something Lynn might wear. Almost every guest wore at least one rose. The richest looked like walking gardens.

 _Even after reform, Serenity nobles are like something out of an ancient fairytale,_ Marika thought. She didn’t have long to wonder at it, as soon a throng of guests surrounded her. Some commented on the performance, but most wanted a photo with the pirate who brought the Golden Ghost Ship home and saved Serenity and its princesses. Without her role to bolster her, Marika was reduced to plastering a smile on her face for picture after picture, as she’d never learned to how to greet fans. Her captain’s uniform felt hot and itchy, and she just wanted to return to the ship and change.

Scouting to find Gruier, Marika spotted Chiaki on the far side of the room, greeting a smaller group who’d gotten impatient at the end of the line to see Marika. Relieved at the distraction and the chance to talk to her without scripts, Marika excused herself and wormed her way through the crowd. Before she could get to Chiaki, a man pushed in front of her.

“Your performance was most exciting, Captain Kato,” he said. “I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance for quite some time, and this was certainly a rousing way to do so.”

“Um, I’m glad,” she replied, jaw beginning to turn sore from smiling, “but I actually—”

“Forgive my manners; I should have introduced myself first.” He moved more squarely in front of her path, blocking Chiaki from view. Introduction or not Marika still didn’t think much of his manners, but she noticed how the crowd around them took a few steps aside as he bowed, and she thought she’d better pay attention. Gold roses lined the buttonholes of his suit coat. His graying hair was slicked back, and she could recognize the sort of sculpted smile its wearer practiced in the mirror.

“I am Count Wensleydale of Serenity, or these days, I find myself being called a member of the new congress.”

“A count,” Marika said, whistling. “That is, the Bentenmaru is honored to loot such a busy politician.”

“Yes, well, my timepiece is now in your ship’s possession, so consider it a token from me to you,” he said with a thin laugh. “In all of Serenity’s old tales, a pirate would have taken far more from me than that.”

“And we would have been arrested if we didn’t make you walk the plank. Of course, we would have been at sea, not in space…”

Count Wensleydale shivered. “I could do without the sea. I sink like a rock. Let’s be glad I’ll never walk that plank.” He winked, and Marika agreed cheerfully, although when she spotted Gruier watching them she took the opportunity to excuse herself. With his princess involved the count could not block her again.

The guests gave an even wider berth this time. Noticing Gruier stood alone, Marika spied her guards mixed in throughout the room. As lovely as she looked, it was weird to see Gruier done up in full princess regalia, complete with a full crown of flowers. Still, she clasped her hands together in a familiar way as she greeted Marika.

“You were wonderful,” she said. Marika rubbed her neck.

“Thanks. I hope you got your money’s worth. We’d never put together a package deal for two rival ships before.”

“We certainly did. All the guests will talk about it for weeks; it will ease the reform tensions for now at least.”

“So that’s why.” Marika should have figured Gruier had an angle or two up her sleeve. Gruier glanced over Marika’s shoulder.

“Ah, you were speaking with Count Wensleydale?” She leaned in, beckoning for Marika to lend an ear. “I saw Chiaki-chan exit down the side hall.”

Marika beamed and thanked Gruier, apologizing for leaving abruptly. Being more of a draw than a new pirate captain, Gruier covered her entrance so that Marika could slip into the hall without a gaggle of followers.

Other than carpeting, the hall looked like that of any other metal ship. Marika almost bumped into a cart carrying plates of skewered appetizers as she wondered about Chiaki’s unusual performance. It wasn’t like her to stray off script—she was usually more by-the-book than Marika, and this had been an important job. As soon as she rounded the bend and saw Chiaki, her pensive thoughts evaporated, and she ran to hug her from behind.

“That was awesome, Chiaki-chan! They loved us.”

As overheated as she’d gotten in her coat, Marika pouted at the loss of warmth when Chiaki wriggled away. “They loved you,” Chiaki said.

“They loved both of us.” Marika cuffed Chiaki’s epaulette. “I almost gasped when you jumped from the balcony, and I knew what was going to happen. The audience was in complete suspense. You even stuck the landing.”

Chiaki walked down the hall while Marika followed, continuing her chatter. “But wow, this was so much more fun than my regular jobs. I was thinking—when we do it next time, what if we used those candlesticks as weapons? Someone loses their sword, and it looks like it’s all over, but…”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Undeterred by Chiaki’s sharp tone, Marika nevertheless frowned. “Why not? Weren’t you eager to have more official pirate jobs?”

“The Balbarossa may not be getting your publicity, but it isn’t so hard up that all of my jobs have to piggyback on the Bentenmaru. We only collaborated because the princess requested it.”

Marika’s frown was already gone. “She said everyone would be talking about it, though. Maybe someone else will ask for it, too. We’d be rolling in treasure.”

Chiaki stopped, spinning around with clenched fists. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop playing dumb?”

Now that Marika could see Chiaki’s face, she saw that the makeup had smudged, and the skin was so red it was almost purple. Her confusion from before returned, melting into concern. “Chiaki-chan? Are you—”

“And stop calling me that. Your fans call you ‘Marika-sama,’ don’t they? Even though I’ve been groomed to be a space pirate my whole life, I’m just a kid for you to humiliate.”

Chiaki’s voice echoed around the metal chamber. A server at the end of the hall who’d entered with a cart seemed to think better of it and backed out of view.

“Even tonight, you called us in so you’d have someone to beat, didn’t you? I won’t play the sucker twice,” Chiaki said, her voice at the edge of cracking.

Used to Chiaki’s occasional outbursts, Marika was nevertheless taken aback. There seemed to be more force behind her words this time, or maybe it was the rawness in her face, as if she’d scrubbed it. If Marika hadn’t known better, she’d think Chiaki was in tears.

“I didn’t think about it like that. You can win the next duel,” Marika offered.

Chiaki looked like she wanted to scream, though no sound came out. “Oh, forget it,” she said, pivoting on her heel. Marika grabbed her cuff.

“Wait! I don’t really understand what I did, but please don’t leave. I barely see you since you transferred—that one time when you left from training without saying goodbye, I thought I wouldn’t see you for months—please, I miss you so much.”

Chiaki glanced back, seeming to have regained some of her composure as if only one of them could be laid bare at a time. “Fine. Just stop begging. It’s unseemly for a space pirate captain.” Pulling her sleeve from Marika’s grip, she half-turned such that she had to thrust her chin above her epaulette to meet Marika’s eyes. “So, what makes the great Marika-sama so desperate to speak with little old Chiaki-chan?”

Marika cringed. “Don’t call me that. It’s bad enough from strangers.”

“Then don’t call me Chiaki-chan.”

“Fine.” Sighing, Marika slumped against the wall, removing her hat and pulling her hair around front so that she could feel the cold metal against her neck. “I didn’t know you felt like that, Chiaki. I just thought we had a friendly rivalry going.” Chiaki certainly had many advantages over her, even—or especially—with Marika becoming captain so early. “Was that what your improvisation was about?”

Chiaki looked away. “I just forgot the script,” she muttered. “I bet you thought it was stupid.”

“No, I’m happy. You don’t usually show me your true feelings that way.”

“I didn’t say anything about that!”

“You didn’t have to. When you get really into something, you’re the most passionate person I know. That’s why I love you.”

Chiaki’s lips had been parted as if preparing an argument, but they spread and then snapped shut when Marika finished. A thin white line formed around them, breaking up what had otherwise long-since resembled a beet. “Don’t say such things so carelessly.”

“I’m not.” Marika shook her head firmly. “Even if you don’t think I’m a sincere person, I’m not careless.”

She let the words hang, twisting her hat around and around while she watched the emblem on it rotate. Even if she was a little less awkward than Chiaki, being a teen working to live up to a distant mother hadn’t primed her for relationships. Navigating her various roles, not to mention space, took enough out of her.

“You really don’t like being called Marika-sama?”

Having already forgotten she’d even mentioned it, Marika looked up from the hat with surprise. “Of course not. It’s just too much. I’m still a high school student, you know—just, well, one who’s also a space pirate with apparently famous parents, I guess.” She rubbed her neck, laughing awkwardly. When she saw Chiaki’s lips quirk, Marika’s hand dropped. “I don’t have to explain that to you, do I?”

“No, but someday you’ll have to explain to me what it’s like to have all of this catch you unaware and leave you floundering through it.”

Marika cocked her head. “It’s kinda like how I left you with what I said just now.”

The momentary goodwill on Chiaki’s face fled. “I am _not_ floundering.”

“Oh? Then if I ask you to go on a date with me when you go back home, you’re prepared?” Marika spun her hat around on a finger, grinning to hide the petal storm in her stomach. Chiaki took a step back.

“D-do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

“We just went over this,” Marika said, letting the hat go still. “I’m not messing around. I just… I don’t know how else to do this either. But I want to be with you, all the time, not just when we find an excuse.” Her hands met in the middle. “And all of that stuff you said… I think we should work on that, too. If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But you asked me to give you my all, so I am.”

The servant with the cart poked around the bend, apparently having failed to find another route. Marika beckoned for them to pass through, and they did, Chiaki practically melding into the wall to avoid showing the stranger her face. When they’d gone, Chiaki kept it hidden. Marika gave her a moment, then on instinct stepped forward and snatched her hat, putting it on her own head. When Chiaki turned with a hand in her hair, Marika plopped her own hat down on top of it. “Was there a point to that?” Chiaki asked.

“I got you to look at me. So? Will you do it or not?”

Muttered wordlessly, Chiaki removed Marika’s hat from her head. “If I say no, you’ll somehow find a way to get me to say ‘yes’, won’t you?”

Having already said Chiaki didn’t have to do it, Marika got the feeling this was her way of agreeing. Still, she wanted to be clear. “I won’t tell you what to say. I know not everyone makes decisions as fast as I do, so if you want, you can message me with your answer later.”

After staring at Marika hard enough to make her scuff her toe against the carpet, Chiaki nodded. “Fine.”

“Great!” Marika said, backing quickly down the hall toward the ballroom.

“Wait! You still have my hat!”

“I’m a pirate!” Marika called back, breaking into a run. “I don’t give back my loot!”

By the time she returned to the ballroom, her hands on her knees, the noise had quieted to a collective hum. Those around her stared, and she straightened, waving with a greeting. Soon the guests who hadn’t gotten to speak to her before approached, making her hold back several sighs as she switched back into captain mode. If anyone noticed the swap in clothing, they didn’t say anything.

When the crew boarded the Bentenmaru, Misa took one look at Marika and sent her away from the bridge. Marika didn’t protest for once, entering the captain’s chambers and sinking into her father’s chair, watching out the window as the Balbarossa became a dot like any other in the distance. The brim of Chiaki’s hat had slid over Marika’s closed eyes when the ding of a message on her tablet made her jump. A grin sprung to her face at the sender.

_Do you even have a plan for this meeting?_

With little delay Marika typed back. _I’ll surround the enemy’s weak points, rush in with style, and woo the damsel, of course! Or, you know, you could come to the Lamp House ten minutes before my shift is over?_

As expected, Chiaki took longer to respond, leaving Marika spinning in her seat. _I expect my hat to be there,_ was all Chiaki finally said _._

_It’s ransom. You’ve gotta come on time if you want it._

A shorter pause this time. _Of course._

No longer caught up in the banter, Marika pumped a fist with a cheer as it hit her that Chiaki had said yes. Re-energized, she stood and danced around the room, mimicking the twirling of the ball guests with her hands positioned on empty air. Growing dizzy once she lost her second wind, she stopped and rested her elbows on the desk. Her physics textbook sat beside them. She groaned. Normally, despite the day’s work, she would have picked it up and studied during the night, after the hours she was allowed to work on the ship were up.

Still, famous pirate captain, rival, and possible girlfriend were enough roles for one day, so she rested her chin in her arms and fancied making her best-ever parfait.


	2. The Date

Chiaki put her hand on her hips and surveyed her room, her cheeks puffed out. Her entire wardrobe was strewn across and around her bed. She’d neatly laid out her usual uniforms, which were now buried under a crumpled pink gown she’d been gifted and a pair of worn overalls she’d somehow inherited. After waffling she settled on a plain black dress that fell to her knees, a purple shawl, and purple boots with heels in hopes the latter would make up for the inch or two Marika had on her. She spent another half hour in front of the mirror, making expressions while trying on her jewelry—a pair of ruby earrings her father had looted, a cutlass pin she’d picked out, a silver heart necklace of her mother’s—before tossing it all aside with a huff. She’d go as-is. The Lamp House on a first date wasn’t an occasion to be dressy, or to look like she was trying too hard.

The idea of walking in fully done up only to have Marika laugh at her for falling for it made her jaw clench. In the back of her mind, she remembered it wasn’t in Marika’s nature to be so cruel—she had a bag of tricks up her sleeve if her ship ran into trouble, but she wouldn’t go this far for a petty prank. Then again, that would mean she’d meant everything she’d said, and…

Chiaki sank onto the bed, hardly caring that she was sitting on her clothes. She picked up Marika’s hat from her nightstand and toyed with it as Marika had, trying to guess what went through her mind. She couldn’t. For all Marika presented herself simply, Chiaki never really could.

Though now Marika knew more of what went through Chiaki’s mind than she’d like. Chiaki’s head fell back against her pillow, her ear bumping a button on the overalls. She hadn’t quite been truthful when she said she’d forgotten the script, but she hadn’t planned the improvisation. It had simply burst out of her when she saw Marika in the spotlight, her makeup heavy yet her smile casual, her chin and hip cocked just enough. It made Chiaki want to grab Marika’s chin and force it down to her level, whether to tell her off or kiss her Chiaki didn’t know.

The thought chased away anything coherent Chiaki could ponder, and she was still trying to clear her mind when she got into the car. Her escort dropped her off several blocks from the café, a good ten minutes early. It was unlikely word would get back to her father, but she’d never hear the end of his teasing if it did. He liked to mention her _favorite captain_ often enough without a reason.

She hugged her bag as she walked, her practiced stride hampered by its awkward bulk. Her nerves multiplied, nebulae forming in her gut. For the last three minutes until their meeting time, she stood just out of view of the windows, watching the time flash from :57 to :58 to :59 before pushing the doors open.

“Hi! Welcome to—oh!” The voice belonged to Mami, who had just set a pair of beverages down on a table near the entrance. Chiaki swallowed. She hadn’t thought about witnesses. It felt as if all their eyes, even the ones whose backs were to her, were on her and would remain there throughout her date.

_Pull it together, Chiaki. None of them know or care about your relationships._

“Marika’s behind the bar,” Mami said before Chiaki had to speak. “I said I’d handle the rest of our shifts and close up, so go have fun.” She winked, and Chiaki felt her cheeks heat. _Already_. Of course Marika would blab to her best friend!

As Chiaki mumbled a cursory response, her eyes traveled over Mami’s shoulder, landing on Marika scrubbing the bar. Her belly flopped when Marika looked up, waving vigorously. Chiaki hurried to sit before Marika could make a scene.

“Chiaki-chan! I’m so glad you made it.” Still holding her cloth, Marika practically launched over the bar in an attempt to hug Chiaki, her arms not quite making it around Chiaki’s shoulders. The ribbons of her uniform tickled Chiaki’s jaw. “I’m sorry, I forgot—Chiaki.”

More gently than she would normally, Chiaki pushed her away. “Of course, _Marika-sama._ I always make my appointments on time.” Even if Marika corrected herself, Chiaki had resolved to retaliate with the honorific every time Marika slipped in hopes it would cause her to stop soon. Normally she would have insisted upon Chiaki-san, but she’d been rather undone after their collaboration, and…well, this was a date, wasn’t it? She fidgeted on the stool, looking up at Marika’s silly grin. It was hard to believe this was the girl she’d so envied and admired.

“I can store your bag behind the bar,” Marika said. Chiaki was still clinging to it for security, but she handed it over, saying it was Marika’s anyway. Marika’s exclamation of _a present…?_ slipped into a laugh when she pulled out her hat. “Yours is in the back. I’ll get it when I change. In the meantime…I believe someone ordered a chocolate parfait, on the house?” She winked, a gesture remarkably similar to Mari’s, turning away to do the job before Chiaki could respond.

While she waited, Chiaki tried to look anywhere but her, examining the plethora of antique lamps the café was named after. One had small pink roses that reminded her both of Marika and of the Angel Serendipity, whisking her further away. She caught the eye of Mari, who gave her an _all good_ sign, and quickly turned back to Marika.

“What made you decide on this?” Chiaki asked. “I realize it’s convenient, but feeding me at the end of your shift rather than waiting to take me somewhere feels a bit…cheap for a space pirate who just worked for a princess. Or are you too busy for that?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that, when I thought about what I wanted to do today, it was something that you would enjoy. And I don’t know as much about you as I would like, but I know you love chocolate parfaits.” Marika placed the cherry on top, adjusting it just so before setting it in front of Chiaki. The sight of the dozen layers and the drip of chocolate running along the outside of the glass momentarily captured Chiaki’s attention.

Her spoon was halfway to her mouth before she realized that Marika was still standing across from her, her elbows on the bar and her chin in her hand, clearly intending to watch her eat rather than getting something for herself. Chiaki’s spoon quivered. This was… _weird_.

The bell signaled a customer. Even though she was ‘off-duty,’ Marika looked up to greet them. Chiaki took the opportunity to shove the spoon in her mouth before its contents could spill.

The creaminess coating the roof of her mouth and rolling off her tongue made her forget everything else. She dug through the layers to get each flavor, progressively finding tangy and bitter notes to cut the sweet: whipped cream with shavings of white chocolate, milk chocolate swirled with strawberry, dark chocolate over banana cream soaked into sponge cake. If she closed her eyes it brought her back to the days when her father docked and took her to the port café, where she’d swing her legs on either side of the stool while he told her about his travels and presented her with some gift he’d won, be it something straightforward like the earrings or an oddity such as an outdated gadget. She still carried a pocket watch that had no screen function for that reason.

When she’d finished the last drop, every layer of the parfait melted into a dollop of chocolate, she let the spoon clatter into the glass and leaned back with a sigh. Not until she opened her eyes did she remember her company. Marika still rested on her elbows, having leaned forward with both hands now around her cheeks. Chiaki sank.

“Good?” Marika asked.

There didn’t seem a point in responding. Chiaki wiped her mouth, looking away. _If I can’t see them, they can’t see me,_ went the childish mantra she’d never grown out of.

With Marika’s shift done, she ran to the back to change. Chiaki couldn’t help but be curious how she’d dress—knowing Marika, it could be anything from a pirate uniform to a pantsuit to a plain shirt and skirt. She was a little put out when Marika ran out in her school uniform, hopping while she finished pulling up her stockings.

“You look so pretty, Chiaki. I wish I’d brought a change of clothes to school.” Marika picked at the sleeve of her uniform. Chiaki didn’t tell her that she’d taken the day off from school herself, an easy feat for someone who often had to pull strings in order to fulfill pirate duties, though in reality she’d been in her room the whole morning from nerves.

With goodbyes to Mami, they left the cafe swinging the bags with their hats. Marika laughed.

“I didn’t think about how bulky these’d be to carry. Hey, wanna wear them?”

“Absolutely not.” In private might have been one thing, but they were walking through the streets now! Distracted by the thought, Chiaki didn’t notice Marika shifting her hold on her bag until she’d looped an arm in hers.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

Struggling not to look flustered—this was a date, it was proper contact, and she could always think of herself as an escort—Chiaki brushed back a stray hair that had come loose from her glasses. “And where are we going?”

“It’s a secret,” Marika said with a wink. Knowing her, that could mean anything from an elaborate plan to something she was making up on the spot. Regardless Chiaki was content to find out as they went, though the leaping in her stomach did not settle, joined as it was by the parfait.

xxxxxxx

The bridge Marika led Chiaki to curved in an arch, its white paint chipped in areas over an ornate swirling design. Their walk through the park had been uneventful, Marika chattering about animals and vendors they passed as well as things that had nothing to do with their surroundings, stories about the Yacht Club and a curry her mother made. Though it was difficult for Chiaki to imagine Blaster Ririka cooking a meal for her daughter, she didn’t mind Marika’s chattiness, as it saved her the trouble of making small talk herself.

The breeze picked up over the water, rustling the leaves and sending Chiaki’s hair against Marika’s face. Chuckling, Marika skipped around to Chiaki’s other side and set down her bag before leaning over the railing. “Look, boats are going toward the harbor.”

“Those are cargo ships,” Chiaki said. “Probably carrying imported food.”

“I forget they don’t just exist in space. That’s why I wanted to go to someplace with water. When we were on the Angel Serendipity, I met a count who mentioned that pirates used to operate on the sea.”

“Serenity certainly likes to invoke the era before space exploration.”

“Yeah, though maybe it’s just for show. I mean, he said he couldn’t even swim.”

Chiaki didn’t care about the count’s abilities, but she had to agree—a planet whose royal family came from a gene bank could hardly pretend said line harked from ancient lands. Thinking too hard about it reminded her of her embarrassment at the ball, so she studied the water instead. In addition to the cargo ships, smaller sailboats for leisure skirted the waves. Only the faintest tinge of orange separated the water from the sky; it would be some time still before twilight pulled a curtain over the view. She had to admit, this was a relaxing place for a date, almost relaxing enough for her to forget what it was until Marika stepped closer. She was still facing the water, seemingly ignorant of how her elbow and then shoulder pressed against Chiaki’s, though Chiaki knew better.

“What do you think it would be like to pirate on the sea?” Marika asked.

Unprepared for the question, Chiaki adjusted her glasses as an excuse to pull her arm in. “Those pirates weren’t legal like us. They were truly cutthroat criminals.”

“Yeah, but we could put on a show out on the water, right? Some rich person’s yacht. Or maybe a cute little ferry.” Marika tapped a finger against her chin. “I like space better, but it might be fun once. We could even make a second date out of it.”

It didn’t escape Chiaki’s notice that despite her outburst after their last collaboration, Marika still seemed to assume an _us_ in pirating. Her second assumption consumed Chiaki’s attention. Now Marika was smiling at Chiaki, Chiaki realized, the arm on Marika’s far side flopping loosely over the railing.

Chiaki looked the other way. Other than a man in the suit that passed by, the bridge hadn’t gotten as much foot traffic as she would have expected. She lowered her voice anyway. “We only have licenses to operate in space. Besides, I’m not sure how we’d get any of the relevant crews to agree to that.”

“I guess you’re right.” Taking the wind out of Marika’s sails turned out to be a bad idea, as it brought her back to the other topic. “Oh well, I’ll leave planning the next date up to you, then.”

“What makes you think there’ll be a next date?” Chiaki winced at the harshness of her own tone. She couldn’t look to see if she’d turned Marika into a wounded puppy, or if Marika was acting oblivious.

“We’ve been having a good time, haven’t we? Of course, we’ll have to wait until the end to make any plans.” That was more reasonable than Chiaki expected, though she didn’t relax.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up suddenly, and she whirled around. A dog ran past in chase of a squirrel. Pieces of litter skipped along the path, carried by the breeze. When nothing else moved, Chiaki turned back to the water warily. Her nerves must have been getting the better of her.

“Oh, I know! Karaoke!” Marika was saying.

“What?”

“That’s what we should do next. You had so much fun singing the Pirate’s Song.”

“No, I didn’t! And didn’t you say I was planning the next one?” Though she shuddered at the memory, Chiaki’s protest was half-hearted, as she was watching out of the corner of her eye. Movement—that was just the squirrel, looping back around after somehow outwitting its predator.

“You do want another one, then?”

“I—”

Leaves rustled. Chiaki’s head swiveled. Was something in the bushes, or…? No, the squirrel had run up a tree.

“Is something wrong, Chiaki?”

Still scanning the park, Chiaki didn’t answer right away. Slowly she turned back to Marika. “Act casual,” she whispered. “Just keep talking to me about, er, our…date.”

“Okay,” Marika said, looking puzzled. “Well, whatever we do next, this has been really nice. I don’t get to relax like this often anymore, not even with Mami.”

“Too much will make you lose your edge as pirate captain,” Chiaki said absently.

“Actually, Misa told me that relaxing is part of my job. I don’t totally get it, but I think I’m starting to.”

Footsteps. Quiet tapping, as if trying to avoid what would otherwise be a clack. Chiaki waited until the man had stepped onto the bridge before facing him with her chin high.

“Hold it,” she commanded. “What are you after?”

The man looked startled for a moment, then quickly held out his arms with an easy shrug. “I was about to visit one of the vendors for a drink, actually.” Chiaki crossed her arms, tapping her sleeve.

“You’ve now walked in both directions over a bridge that’s part of a circle path, and that suit isn’t made of a material found on this planet.”

The man chuckled. “Well, now, meandering through a park and wearing imported clothing is hardly a crime, is it?”

“Count Wensleydale?” Marika asked. “What are you doing here?”

“An acquaintance of yours? I thought as much,” Chiaki said. “Are you here for Marika? She’s busy.”

Running a hand through his hair, Wensleydale sighed. “Actually, I’m here on vacation. I find myself with far more free time than I know what to do with, now that I’ve been relieved of my position. Which means I’m a count no more,” he told Marika with a mirthless smile.

“That’s a shame,” she said. “It hasn’t been much time since I saw you on the Angel Serendipity, though, has it? What happened?”

“I really can’t explain it.” Wensleydale removed a cloth from his breast pocket, wiping a speck of pollen off his shoulder. “One day I’m meeting the esteemed Captain Kato aboard a luxury liner, and the next Princess Serenity herself tells me I’ve been dismissed.”

Pausing, he tucked the cloth back into his pocket, his fingers lingering there. “It’s almost as big of a shock as learning that a young pirate captain had towed the Golden Ghost Ship back home, causing the Serenity royal family to become a ceremonial mantelpiece—and the lesser nobility naught more than trophies in the cellar.”

His pale eyes met Marika’s icily. Chiaki assessed everything on and around her. For all the time she’d spent flinging clothes around her room, she hadn’t thought to bring a weapon.

Wensleydale’s wrist flicked, revealing a tiny gun. “What did you tell her?” he asked, his voice dropping.

Chiaki acted before Marika. She dipped down to grab the handle of her bag, shoving it toward Wensleydale’s face. Without waiting to see it strike she grabbed Marika’s wrist and planted a hand on the railing, vaulting over and dragging Marika down with her to the water below.

The impact stung. She had no time to dive properly, let alone a curtain to ease her plunge from the balcony. Cold water filled her nose and mouth, surprising her enough for her grip, slick from water, to slip from Marika. Marika grabbed hold of her arm and tugged, clearing Chiaki’s head. A bang had sounded as they dove. She couldn’t waste time collecting her bearings.

Chiaki kicked and made wide strokes with her free arm, trusting Marika to steer them. She gasped for air as her head broke the surface, coughing. They treaded water under the bridge, giving them some protective cover. If they swam out from under it, they’d be sitting ducks.

Again grasping Marika’s wrist, Chiaki pressed them both against the inside arch of the bridge, where there was enough of a ledge to stand on the tip of her toes. A layer of concrete against her wet neck made her shiver. Her clothes and hair clung to her, and she’d lost her glasses. Marika was a pink blur beside her. _If I can’t see her, she can’t see me,_ that childish voice burbled as Chiaki stuck close to Marika’s side for warmth.

Marika was already making a call. History lessons had taught Chiaki that communication devices hadn’t always been waterproof; they’d be sunk in that case. She listened closely, trying to slap the water from her ear, but there was no activity above, and no sound of Wensleydale splashing into the water after them. Belatedly Chiaki remembered Marika’s tale of a count that couldn’t swim. She made a note to pretend that was her strategy all along.

“My crew is on their way,” Marika whispered. They waited with their fingers clutching wet sleeves until Marika snaked an arm around Chiaki, holding tight.

xxxxxxx

Their clothes and hair dripped in the interior of Kane’s car. Misa apologized for not having time to pick up towels before driving there, to which Marika pointed out they’d come just in the nick of time. Behind them, officials drove Wensleydale in the opposite direction. Kane and Misa had convinced them to wait until the next day, when the girls were dry and less shaken, to question them. Of course, Marika already seemed calm and Chiaki was pretending to be, sitting straight with her hands folded in her lap.

According to the report Misa pulled up on a tablet, Wensleydale, a staunch conservative, had quietly but strongly opposed reform. It was suspected he’d been organizing a plot against many of the new congress members, but as Gruier yielded most of her power to the congress, she couldn’t act until evidence surfaced just after the Bentenmaru and Balbarossa’s job. What kind of creep decided to take it out on a high school student, Chiaki didn’t know.

“Of course, violation of a non-aggression pact has been added to his crimes. You girls did good work today, for a day off.”

“I disagree,” Misa said. “They’ve failed the task of relaxing for the day, so they’ll have to start fresh as soon as possible.”

Chiaki sank back. She could see the odd coloring of Misa’s hair peaking out from behind the passenger seat, but not her expression. With vague horror Chiaki wondered if she knew they were on a date.

“That’s not as soon as I’d like,” Marika said. “We’ll have the messy aftermath of this to deal with.”

“Yes, I’m sure the media will be anxious to hear from the owner of the shoe that stopped the criminal,” Chiaki said. Misa and Kane laughed. The image of Marika flinging her wet shoe into Wensleydale’s face while he tried to escape during their rescue was one that none of them were likely to forget.

“What’s so funny about that? Chiaki threw a bag at him!” Marika protested.

The others bantered about various unconventional pirate weapons while Chiaki watched out the window, closing her eyes when the blurred streaks gave her a headache. She barely registered Marika’s hand holding hers. By the time she remembered others could see them, it was too late to save herself from embarrassment by pulling away.

The sky had darkened when they parked at Marika’s house. She invited Chiaki in to dry off, but Chiaki stayed put. For Blaster Ririka to see her soaking wet and half-blind, not to mention on a date with her daughter… Chiaki shuddered.

Unfortunately Kane insisted she go in to dry off so he could start drying his car, and Misa herded the girls inside, explaining the situation to what appeared to be an amused Ririka. Murmuring a few courtesies to Ririka, Chiaki took the first opportunity to dive into the bathroom with a towel and a change in clothes. As she dried off she heard laughter in the front room, making her cheeks heat even though changing did little to warm her up. Marika’s cry of _I didn’t have anything else on me_ only somewhat reassured Chiaki that it wasn’t her they were laughing at.

Once dry and wearing a shirt and pair of pants Marika lent her that felt soft enough to be pajamas, she stumbled around with a hand against the wall until Misa intercepted her and led her to a couch.

“I know she’s intimidating, but try not to think of her as Blaster Ririka while you’re here.” It took Chiaki a second to catch up, having expected her to talk about Marika. “And of course, Marika isn’t a pirate captain while she’s here, either,” Misa added.

Chiaki thought about that when Misa left her be. As a kid, she’d felt her father ruffle her hair and call her _first mate,_ tried to grab for his hat at any opportunity. When people looked at her, she always felt like they only saw a teenage girl, not someone living up to the expectations of a future pirate captain. She’d assumed Marika could tell, too, but maybe Marika had never had that expectation in the first place.

She heard Marika’s approach, footsteps she couldn’t explain how she could recognize when they weren’t at a run. She dropped beside Chiaki with a sound like a towel rubbing against hair.

“Sorry about your glasses. I’ll pay to get them replaced.”

“No, it was my fault for losing them.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t expecting a politician to use our date as his chance for revenge. If you hadn’t acted so quickly, I don’t want to think about what would have happened.”

“Then don’t. The matter’s been resolved.”

The sound of fabric paused. “Yeah, you’re right. What do you think? Pretty exciting first date, huh? I was going to take you somewhere to relax, but…”

“Perhaps next time, assuming you haven’t made any more enemies since our last job.” It took Chiaki a second to realize what she’d said. Marika’s presumptuousness was rubbing off on her. The lips that pressed briefly against her cheek didn’t help her flush.

“Yeah, you’re right. Next time, I’ll put my all into relaxing,” Marika said, not seeming to realize the contradiction. “So? That stuff we talked about last time—how are you feeling about that?”

It took Chiaki a moment to figure out which _stuff_ Marika was talking about, after which she was glad for the vagueness. She was going to give a dismissive response, but she thought about it. She still felt self-conscious and mocked, though much of that feeling that day had come from others and from inside, not from Marika. Then again, Marika the maybe-girlfriend didn’t feel like as much of a rival as Marika the space captain or even Marika the student, and at least she’d stopped with _Chiaki-chan_. She was still strange in her exuberance, always sillier around Chiaki than anyone else, but Chiaki was beginning to accept that maybe—maybe—that was because Marika liked her.

“If being shoved into the spotlight means being threatened by vengeful ex-counts, I don’t think I envy you,” Chiaki finally answered. Marika’s laugh was halfway to a groan.

“I envied you a little,” she admitted. “I mean, you grew up prepared for this stuff. Your dad—” Marika stopped, and Chiaki inhaled. She hadn’t really stopped to consider why Marika had been thrust into her role so suddenly. “Well, this isn’t the time to talk about that stuff. I smell curry from the kitchen—we should check it out.”

Chiaki released her breath, willing to let Marika act bubbly this time. When she breathed in again, the warm, spicy smell of curry did indeed permeate the room. It didn’t rank as high as parfaits, but the thought of the creamy sauce made her mouth water, and a stew to chase the rest of the chill from her bones was enough to make her stand.

Immediately she remembered she still couldn’t see well enough to navigate even a house. Marika took her arm. “Worry not, Captain Kurihara, I shall escort you to the bridge,” she said in her best pirate voice. Chiaki bristled.

“You’re making fun of me again.”

“I would never,” Marika said, squeezing her arm before dragging her toward the kitchen.


End file.
